BACKTRACKER by Milo Fowler (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📗

isyour father's central lab station," he winced at the ear-piercing alarm."Empty for now."

She blinked and plugged a finger in each ear. The room appeared tobe identical to that lab invaded by gun-toting Blackshirts: the same sterilewhite monitors and scattered equipment, the same wall of windows looking out onanother laboratory easily ten times the size of this one. Silent.Still.

"Now what?" The area had been vacated, but the image ofArmstrong gunned down remained fresh in her mind. No one was safe at AlphaGeminorum. Not today.

He held up the wristwatch. "All I need is a date and a timethat—"

"What do I do?" She paused, sorting through herthoughts. "You said my father came to you from the future. So you knowwhat I'm supposed to do next, right? You can tell me."

A sad smile flickered across his features. "I can't, Irena."

"Why not?" She stared at him as a jittery energy coursedthrough her. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"You must do what you think is right. Otherwise, we riskcreating a divergence in the timeline." He reached out and took her handagain, squeezing it gently. "Trust me. You know what you mustdo."

She shook her head. I really don't.

"Focus, Irena. You can do this. You already have!"

Her eyes came to rest on the BackTracker. I'vealready done whatever it is that I'm going todo. "What if I make a mistake?"

"Remember why you are here, in this place, at this time. Keepthat purpose in the forefront of your mind. It will not matter what mistakesyou make along the way. You will succeed."

Harry. She saw her young husband lying dead atCade's feet. I can't go back and fight him.

Cade would easily overpower her. He would return to the past andkill Harry again even if she somehow managed to save his life. It was in Cade'sprogramming now, thanks to her father. So there was only one other option.

I have to go further back. Further than theywould ever expect.

"All right. Here goes nothing." She gave him a date andtime from more than forty years in her past, before she was even born.

He nodded as he set the device, fingers moving deftly. "Luckyfor us, your father's technology existed at that point in time, albeit inrudimentary form."

"Why does my father—from the future—want you to help me? He'sthe one who had my husband killed."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Irena."

"What?" She seethed at his lack of emotion.

"Here we are. Good to go." He took her hand and slippedthe wristwatch onto her, snapping it into place. He grasped both her hands andlooked her in the eye. She was surprised by the intense affection she foundthere, as if he loved her like his own daughter.

Outside, the door to the larger laboratory blew open, and anothersquad of Blackshirts rushed in with weapons drawn. Their laser sights dartedstraight to the windows.

The clone winced. "No mirrored glass here, I'm afraid."

A staccato of weapons fire erupted all at once, and the windowsshattered, cascading down like rain, scattering in millions of plastiglasspieces across the floor. The Blackshirts broke ranks and rushed inside the labstation where the woman and the scientist stood hand-in-hand.

"Cease fire!"

There were no bullet-riddled bodies waiting for them. Becauseafter a flash of blue light, the man and woman had ceased to exist. Vanished. Asif they'd never been there at all.

Irena and the clone stood in the middle of the laboratory, justas they had a moment ago. Only now they were surrounded by gaping lab techs.

"Someone call security!" one shouted, coming to hissenses.

"Who the hell are you?" said another one.

"How did you get in here?" demanded another.

The clone stepped forward, hands raised in surrender to put themat ease. "This is very unexpected, I'm sure," he beganwith a smile designed to charm them into submission. "Believe me, my associateand I had no idea we would land here, but that's a risk you take when you're inresearch and development. Am I right?" He chuckled knowingly.

They remained immovable.

"Old Solomon and his matter displacement prototype," theclone muttered, shaking his head with disappointment. "Would you believeme if I told you we were supposed to end up on the other side of town?" Hescoffed. "Not the other side of the complex!"

"So you're with..."

"Iron Balls himself? That's right. We drew the short straws,so to speak. The first human test subjects. Quite an honor, I mustconfess—"

"You wouldn't mind if I called Dr. Solomon, just to check onyour story?" The lab tech crossed his arms.

"Be my guest. I'm sure he'd love to hear it from a lackeysuch as yourself, that his latest invention is a bust. And be sure to give himyour name, while you're at it. Because if you don't, I will." The clonesquinted, leaning forward to read the tech's nametag. "Wilson, is it? I'msure you have a bright future ahead of you here at Alpha Geminorum. As do therest of you." He scanned their tags. "Emert, Peters, DePriest,Henrichsen, Barnes. Shining stars, all of you. I'm sure Dr. Solomon will bepleased to know that you offered his test subjects such a warm welcome. Whatdivision is this, by the way? Artificial intelligence?"

Wilson's arms dropped to his sides. His eyes darted first toBarnes, then Emert, a stocky fellow with a shock of white hair held in place bythe latest feat of cosmetic engineering.

"What do you say, Wilson?" It was Emert who spoke,stepping forward to tug off his lab coat and drape it around Irena'sshoulders. She hadn't realized she was shivering.

"Thank you." She pulled it close. Traveling throughtime, in her experience, was a cold journey.

"Wilson?" Emert waited, one eyebrow raised.

Grumbling to himself, Wilson folded his arms and dropped his head.He wouldn't be calling anybody about this interruption.

"Give Dr. Solomon our best," Barnes spoke up afterclearing her throat. "We-uh all make mistakes from time to time."

"I'd appreciate it if we could keep this one between us. Whatdo you think? I'm sure the old boy will get it right sooner or later, but untilthen, well... " The clone winked. "You might see us alittle more often than you'd like, I'm afraid."

A murmur of hesitant laughter rippled through them.

"We could get used to it," Peters piped up